


you crazy-assed cosmonaut (remember your virtue)

by ScreechTheMighty



Series: hammer of the gods / will drive our ships to new lands [1]
Category: God of War (Video Games), Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: Adult!Atreus, Autistic!Cooper, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Friendship, Gen, Rated for swearing, google translate icelandic, literally just the author making a play date for her two favorite boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:54:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27115700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreechTheMighty/pseuds/ScreechTheMighty
Summary: feel your breath course frankly below / and see life as a worthy opponentAn unlikely friendship is forged in war (AKA a prequel to "toy soldiers").
Series: hammer of the gods / will drive our ships to new lands [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1979216
Comments: 23
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have zero explanation for this except that I love both these boys and I think they'd get along. As with last time, this fic treats the Norse/Greek/etc. pantheons as if they are super-advanced aliens, which will be more important in later chapters. ALSO, because I've gotten some people who haven't played God of War but still support my fics...this fic DOES contain spoilers for God of War (2018) (starting primarily in chapter two). I highly recommend either playing the game or watching a playthrough because it's very good, so if you're intrigued, maybe do that first (unless you don't mind spoilers--so far I've only spoiled a detail I knew myself going into my first playthrough, and it definitely didn't ruin the game, but you might care more than me).

The Militia had become a lot more organized since the start of the war, but that didn’t stop them from seeing… _weird_ sorts. For example: the guy with the bow.

They kept him around because he was a good shot with a Kraber, and from what Cooper understood, they needed all the decent snipers they could get. But he couldn’t think of a single person who was actually _friends_ with the guy. A lot of people gave him a wide berth, saying he _gave them a weird vibe._

Cooper kind of got that, but he’d never found the guy... _unapproachable_ weird. Just regular grade _carry a bow into combat against mostly robotic enemies_ weird. Then again, there was a time and place when Cooper might’ve been considered a damn changeling, so maybe his weirdness meter was screwed.

Either way, he felt kind of bad for the guy. Hence the reason he approached him one day at lunch, where he was sitting alone, again. “Is this bench taken?” Cooper asked.

The guy looked up. “…does it look taken?” he asked with a bit of a smile. “Sit where you want. I don’t mind.”

That _had_ been the plan. But the _whole_ bench was empty, and Cooper suddenly found himself second-guessing where he should sit. Sure, he’d walked over here with the intention of providing some companionship, but he wasn’t sure how badly Bow Guy wanted it. Enough space to avoid it being weird, but close enough to show openness to conversation…

_But what is that distance, exactly?_

Cooper sat what would be about three or four seats down, picked up his fork…and completely chickened out. “Is this too close?” he asked. “Sorry, I…didn’t want to crowd you too much, but I dunno, sitting at the end of the bench feels like I think you have rabies or something…”

Bow Guy laughed. Cooper felt his face go red, but fortunately… “You’re fine. But thank you for asking.”

_Okay. That works._

Cooper ate in silence, occasionally sneaking a glance at Bow Guy. He had red hair cut into a short mohawk, blue eyes, and pretty damn pale skin. It looked like he had tattoos on his right hand, though from that distance it was hard to tell what they were. Cooper could see another one behind his left ear—a snake, maybe? “What’s the tattoo mean?” he asked.

Bow Guy glanced Cooper’s way. “What’s _yours_ mean?” he asked.

Fair enough. “It’s a star map,” he said, holding up his arm to give Bow Guy a better look. “Of the Frontier.”

“Reminder of what you’re fighting for?”

“Honestly, I just like astronomy. I started it before I even thought about joining the Militia. But…yeah, I guess it is now.” He ran his fingers down the path of planets. “I’ve been thinking about getting another one, but y’know, not much time these days.”

“Tell me about it.” Bow Guy held up his own arm. “It’s old Norse. Lucky shot....strong arm…” He then flipped his hand over, revealing more. “Quick hand. And…” He twisted his neck, tapping a line of ink on his neck Cooper had missed entirely. “Steady mind.”

“So you took the archery thing really seriously, is what you’re telling me?”

Bow Guy barked in laughter. “Yeah.” And, to Cooper’s surprise, he leaned over, holding out his tattooed hand. “Arthur Kokkinos.”

“Jack Cooper.” Cooper shook his hand carefully. The proximity let him see that Bow Guy—Arthur—had some scars on his face. They looked old, like the kind of thing you probably shouldn’t ask about. His grip was firm, and a bit cold. “So, if the others are old Norse…is that the World Serpent behind your ear?”

Arthur’s eyes lit up. “Jörmungandr, yeah!”

“That’s what I thought, I just…” Cooper grinned sheepishly. “…if my dad’s part Norse, it’s not enough for me to pronounce that right.”

That got another laugh out of Arthur. “I know, it’s a mouthful. Fun fact they don’t teach you in mythology class: it’s Jörmi to his friends.”

“You’re making that up.”

“I’m absolutely not making that up.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re making that up.”

“He _could_ like to go by Jörmi.”

“Fair enough.”

Funny thing was, Cooper hadn’t gone over there planning to make friends. He’d mostly just wanted to make a guy who’d been arbitrarily on the outs feel a bit more welcome. But…well, by the end of lunch, it felt like he’d made a friend.

Arthur hanging around a lot afterwards cemented that. He was, as it turned out, pretty cool once you got past the weirdness of him carrying around a bow pretty much everywhere. He seemed to have a deep well of knowledge about mythology (mostly Norse and Greek), and if there was one thing Cooper could appreciate, it was a deep knowledge about esoteric subject matter.

“Were you going into anthropology before this?” Cooper asked. “Or…some other field where you know a lot about mythology?”

“Nah. I just like knowing things. I’m technically the brains of the family.” He paused, then laughed. “I’m not the brains of the family. My uncle was, he took the title with him to the grave.” Fortunately, he brushed past the detail of _dead family member_ before Cooper had time to worry about what he should say. “I could ask you if you were going into anthropology with that music library of yours.”

Cooper grinned sheepishly. “Nah, I have an agricultural degree. The music is my special interest. I think it’d give me a leg up in a music history class…not sure where else it’d be useful.”

“Nothing wrong with knowing things for the hell of it. You think mythology, runology, and linguistics are going to save my ass out here?” He gestured towards their setting in general—prefabricated buildings struggling to stay afloat in the muddy field, deep tracks from the few Titans stationed with their unit, and the distinctly fishy smell coming from nearby ocean. “No. But if I spend all day thinking about killing people, I’m going to lose my mind.”

He said the last part with complete seriousness, but again, he brushed past that before Cooper had time to think of a response. “I just realized, I’ve probably been dominating the conversation talking about those old fucks…”

Cooper snorted. Arthur might’ve been passionate about mythology, but he wasn’t _reverent_ in any way. He talked about those old pantheons the way Dad talked about especially annoying members of his engineer’s union. “Nah, it’s fine. I like listening.”

“Still. Best and worst years for pop music, in your opinion?”

Cooper went on a lengthy tangent about how it was difficult to determine _best_ and _worst_ years based only off the “most popular” music, since it could exclude a lot of good but lesser-known songs and albums that don’t really have a lot of _singles_ appeal. Arthur listened without interrupting.

That was the nice thing about Arthur: as he was good as talking (he’d referred to himself as having a _silver tongue_ more than once), he was just as good at listening. He was also pretty funny when he did decide to talk, which was nice to have around when everything felt pretty grim.

Technically, they had the IMC on the defense. Most days it didn’t feel that way.

“First thing I’m going to do when this is over is sleep for a week,” Cooper said one night when they were on watch together.

He could hear the smile in Arthur’s voice, even if he couldn’t see it in the darkness. “First thing I’m going to do is get absolutely wasted. Completely fucked up.”

“Also a good choice. What about after?”

“Probably sleep for a week also. And when you’re done sleeping?”

“My cousin and his wife just had another kid. I’d like to actually meet him sometime.”

“Aww, a son?”

“Second son, actually." He'd show pictures, but Cooper tried not to keep that kind of thing on him when he was on duty. He didn't want to give the IMC anything to use against him, on the off chance he was captured. “I barely met the first one. Raleigh, my cousin, he’s basically my brother, so it’s… _weird_ , not seeing my nephews.”

“Yeah, I bet. No… _actual_ siblings?”

“Nah, just a bunch of cousins I spent too much time with growing up. Close enough. All the benefits but no risk of having to share a room. You?”

“My dad had a daughter in his first marriage, but she died before I was born, so I never got to know her. No other kids with my mom, so…yes and no? It’s weird.”

“Oh.” After a pause, Cooper asked, “Is this the kind of situation that needs a sympathy sorry?”

“Nah. If Dad were here…” Arthur paused—which was weird, because he was _not_ the kind of person who let a thought go unfinished. He did finish it eventually ( _But I’m not too hung up on it. Thanks for asking, though)_ , but the time it took to do felt out of character.

_Did something happen with his dad?_

That was definitely not something he should just ask about, so he didn’t. But one day Cooper _did_ get the guts to ask about something else.

“So, what’s the deal with the bow?”

“Well, my mother made it for me, so it’s definitely good luck. It’s what I used to hunt.”

“I had a G7. Are you…” This was a hard one to phrase. “You know those neopagans out on the Outland border?”

Arthur snorted loudly. “Oh, no, I’m not one of them. They’d _hate_ me.” That felt like a weird thing to say, seeing how he had the whole _old Norse rune tattoos_ and _learned to hunt with a bow and not a rifle like literally everyone else Cooper knew_ thing going for him, but he _must_ have had a reason for saying it. “There’s a lot of benefits to using a bow. No one hears you coming, for one. And there was a time and a place where these things were stronger than guns.” Cooper believed it, but he was also _pretty_ sure that was back when you had to load each individual shot into the gun. “I bet you I could get a Reaper with it.”

Cooper’s eyebrows shot up. “No way.”

“How much do you want to bet, if you’re so confident?”

“I don’t have money to spend on bets. Just because I’m pretty sure you’re bullshitting me doesn’t mean I want to risk what I do have.”

“All right, Mr. Frugal, how about betting a favor?”

“Like…what, I take your watch duty?”

“I was thinking something a bit more unspecified.”

“That’s not ominous or anything.” Cooper did like Arthur, but sometimes he saw that… _weird_ that made other people avoid him. “Here’s a thought, maybe we _shouldn’t_ be gambling on life or death situations?”

“Fair, fair. Keep an eye out, though.”

Cooper didn’t think Arthur would actually do it.

He _really_ should’ve known better.

In Arthur’s defense, he didn’t bust the thing out in the middle of a fight. He waited until the initial attack was over and they were picking off stragglers. Most of them were too damaged to really fight back, but every now and again…

“ _Shit! Live one, live one - !_ ”

Cooper turned, raising his weapon—just in time to see an arrow, sparking with electricity, connect with the Reaper’s neck, right in a weak spot. The force of the arrow twisted the head into a position it _definitely_ wasn’t meant to be in, and the electric shock finished it off, causing the Reaper to drop.

“Told you!” Arthur called.

Cooper turned around in time to see Arthur leaning against a destroyed truck, bow in one hand, grinning from ear to ear. “You didn’t tell me you had trick arrows, _asshole!_ ” Cooper shouted back.

“You didn’t ask!”

“ _Gentlemen,_ time and a place,” said their CO. Most of his disapproval seemed to be directed at Arthur (as it often was), but Cooper still felt his ears go red at the tone. “Let’s finish this clean up and get ready for the next wave.”

Next wave, _ugh_. Well, at least he knew if they ran out of bullets, Arthur would have a few trick arrows up his sleeve.

“Bet you’re glad you didn’t gamble an unspecified favor on that, huh?” Arthur whispered as Cooper walked past. Cooper stuck out his tongue in response. It was a _little_ childish, but he knew Arthur wasn’t going to do anything about it.

That was the last funny thing to happen to him for the next few days.

They moved a lot, trying to stay one step ahead of the IMC. They had already been on this dump for longer than they meant to, with no backup in sight for a while—no backup of _any_ kind. That included supplies. Cooper tried not to think about what would happen if they ran out of food—and how much that _if_ was starting to look like a _when_.

He wasn’t the only one thinking about it. It was just that other people had solutions. And by _other people_ he meant _Arthur_.

“Hey, you want to get out of here?” Arthur asked.

“Huh?”

“Commander gave me permission to go hunting, but only if I brought someone with.”

“…are we really that low on food?”

“I mean, he didn’t give me numbers, but if he’s letting me go out there…” Arthur shrugged. “Then we’d probably better find something good.”

“No pressure, huh?” Cooper smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I’ll come along.” It would be nice to get out of camp for a while.

He grabbed a G7 Scout from the armory and followed Arthur out of camp. “Which way are we going?” he asked.

“In the direction of food,” Arthur replied.

Cooper rolled his eyes. “Yeah, _thanks._ ”

Arthur laughed. “Sorry…inside joke. Something my dad used to say to me.”

Ah, Dad humor. “He teach you to hunt?”

“My mom more than him, though he picked up after she…” He hesitated. “She died when I was ten.”

“Oh. Sorry…”

“It’s okay. She would’ve liked you, actually.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. She always wanted to help people. Protect the weak. She would’ve been out here in a heartbeat, if she were still here.”

“What about your dad?”

“He, uh…”

Arthur paused. Cooper couldn’t tell if he was searching for tracks or stalling on answering. “It’s not that he doesn’t want to help,” Arthur said finally. “He just…went through a lot before he went my mom. He’s had enough fighting to last him a while. It’s made him hesitant to get involved in stuff, you know?”

Cooper nodded. He knew a bunch of guys like that from home—people who remembered the brutality of the Titan Wars and weren’t looking forward to more fighting. He couldn’t exactly judge them for that. “Let me guess…he wasn’t happy you joined up?”

“Yeah, we…had a big fight about it before I left.” Arthur paused again. Cooper was _sure_ he was tracking something that time, as he had the change directions a few times. He figured the subject would just be dropped, but…

“We haven’t…actually spoken since then.” Arthur said it so quietly that Cooper almost missed him. “I wrote a note and left.”

_…yikes._

“I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to that,” Cooper admitted. “Uhm…what do you need right now? Advice? Unquestioning support for your call?”

Arthur laughed bitterly. “Shit. I don’t know. It’s been ages and I still don’t know what I’d say to him if I _did_ get back in contact.” He climbed effortlessly over a fallen tree in their path, stopping on the other side to wait for Cooper. “We’re equally stubborn…that’s always been an issue with us. Don’t get me wrong, I love him to death, he’s just…”

Arthur trailed off. When Cooper finally cleared the tree, he saw why. They had been tracking _something_ , but the tracks hadn’t been completely clear until that point. Just the crushed overgrowth it left behind. Now… “Hoof tracks?” Cooper guessed.

Arthur was slow to respond. When he did, he sounded distracted. “…yeah, looks like it…just stay close to me, okay?”

Cooper wasn’t going to argue. Something about animals with hooves set him on edge, but that might’ve been because he’d known one too many horses with a genuine taste for blood. Those didn’t _look_ like horse prints, though. Cooper stuck close to Arthur as he followed the tracks. Eventually, the forest gave way to a clearing, and there in the middle, grazing…

_No way._

“Is that a deer?” Cooper whispered. He wasn’t sure; he’d never seen a _real_ deer, just pictures in books. This didn’t even look like those deer—its fur was white and its antlers glowed with a strange blue light. “Or like…an elk or something?”

Arthur seemed transfixed by the creature. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. “It…sure looks like one,” he whispered back. “What the hell is…”

Cooper shrugged. “Maybe some bigwig missed deer hunting back in the core system and introduced them here.” Wouldn’t be the first time some idiot had ruined an ecosystem like that. “It’s…really beautiful.”

“…yeah.”

Arthur made no move to get closer or go in for the kill. Cooper thought about asking if this was their target, but decided against it. He wasn’t sure he _wanted_ to kill it, even if they needed the food. It really was beautiful.

As he watched, the deer’s head suddenly snapped up. Its ears turned, listening for something, before it took off as fast as its legs could carry it. Cooper was about to ask what _that_ was about when he heard it.

No, heard it wasn’t the right word. _Felt_ it—a vibration under his feet, like something _big_ was coming closer. Cooper felt a sudden surge of adrenaline at the realization. “Titan?” he whispered. _Oh, shit, if that’s a Titan…it’s definitely not one of ours if it is, oh **shit** …_

“No, I don’t…” Arthur straightened up. “Do you smell that?”

It took Cooper a second, but he did. He was expecting the usual smells that came with a nearby Titan—fuel, warm metal, that kind of thing. Instead what he got was…something more organic. Sweat and blood, or at least that’s what it was to his untrained nose. “What is…”

Arthur dragged Cooper deeper into the underbrush as the footsteps got louder. The trees were shoved aside as the source of the footsteps approached. It was…

Was…

Cooper froze, his mind trying to grasp exactly what in the hell he was seeing. It was human-shaped, but _much_ taller (Titan-sized at least) and more muscular. It had grey skin, angry dark eyes, and a set of horns curving down along its jaw. It was hauling what looked like a tree trunk roughly hewn into what could only be described as a battering ram. It lumbered into the clearing and stopped, its nostrils flaring as if it was smelling for the deer.

_Or for us._

“Back up _very_ slowly,” Arthur whispered. “Do _not_ provoke it.”

_Don’t have to tell me twice._

Cooper started following Arthur backwards. He kept his eyes on the creature as he went, ready to run if it did see him. He saw Arthur draw his bow as he backed up, as if _that_ would somehow be helpful…

The creature’s head whipped around, its gaze fixing on them.

“Fuck,” said Arthur grimly.

“ ** _Farðu út!_** ” roared the creature.

Funny; Cooper’s first thought wasn’t one of panic, or even a desperate scramble to figure out what his next move should be. It was, _Wait, did that thing **talk?!**_

Arthur stood up, bow fully drawn, but didn’t fire. “Við erum að fara!” he called back. “Höldum okkur framhjá. Þú vilt ekki þennan bardaga.”

“What the _fuck_ , Arthur?!” Cooper hissed.

“ _Shh_ , I’ve got this…!”

The creature’s eyes narrowed. It adjusted its grip on the tree trunk as it stared Arthur down. Cooper was tempted to bolt, but stayed put, worried the sudden movement might set the creature off.

_Please, please, just walk away, let us go, please…_

Its eyes went wide. “Svikahrappur - !”

That was all it got out before Arthur let loose the arrow. The creature staged back as lightning arced across its face. “Run, run, _move it, run - !_ ” Arthur yelled.

Cooper bolted. At first, he was running in a blind panic, hearing Arthur behind him and then the creature tearing after them. The panic did, eventually, fade enough for him to realize something. “Should we be leading this thing back to camp?!” he yelled. He had no idea how strong it was, so even _if_ they had it outnumbered…

“ _Right up ahead!_ ” Arthur yelled in response. “ _There_ , into those rocks!”

Cooper did as he was told, veering right so fast he almost slipped on wet leaves underfoot. _I don’t have anti-Titan weapons. I should’ve brought anti-Titan weapons._ All he had were some grenades, and he wasn’t sure how much they would slow that thing down. It was _massive._ Organic, sure, but who knew how thick its skin was?

The rocks provided some cover, at least—they were far enough apart for him and Arthur to slip through, but close enough that the whatever-it-was couldn’t get to them easily. Arthur stopped behind one. “Okay,” he said, “so, bad news, that thing is definitely going to chase us down.”

“So you’re saying we have to kill it?”

“Regrettably. Use the grenades, try to open up a weak spot in its hide, and _keep shooting there._ ” Arthur’s voice was nearly drowned out by a frustrated yell from the creature. “I’ll do the same. Just don’t panic and we’ll be fine.”

Cooper had moved past the point of panic and into terrified acceptance of the situation. Nothing he could do but get shit done and hope he didn’t die.

He took a deep breath, carefully selected the first grenade, and leaned out from behind cover. The creature was still trying to navigate through the rocks. It was so focused on navigating that it didn’t react at first to the first grenade. Not until it blew up right in his face. Cooper pitched another one just to be safe. When the smoke cleared, he could see a pretty good chunk out of the guy’s chest

_Aim for the weak spot, aim for the weak spot…_

First, though, Cooper made a run for new cover. He saw Arthur move in the other direction, firing another electric arrow as he went. The creature roared in pain as the arrow hit its mark.

_Keep shooting, keep shooting…_

Cooper stopped behind a rock and took careful aim. He’d been using a G7 since before his Militia days, and by this point it was familiar to him as his own body. He took careful aim, staring down the sights at the bloody mess on its chest, and fired, fast as he could pull the trigger. He saw more blood spurt from the creature’s chest as his shots hit. The creature started to move for him, but got distracted by another barrage of arrows from Arthur.

_Move, move, get to new cover, **move…**_

Cooper took the chance and ran for it.

Thing was: that should’ve worked. The creature had its head turned towards Arthur, who was still fearlessly firing arrows at it; Cooper should’ve been able to run past while it was distracted, get to new cover, and start firing again.

But there was always the risk that it’s attention wasn’t so completely fixed on Arthur that it wouldn’t notice Cooper running past. Cooper knew that—or, at least, he knew that everything had risk.

That didn’t stop him from feeling shocked when the creature’s battering ram came right for him.

“ ** _JACK - !_** ”

His entire life didn’t flash before his eyes. Cooper wasn’t even sure he was scared. His mind was desperately scrambling, trying to find a way out of the situation. He felt himself try to dodge, his body not having caught onto the fact that it was too late, that he was _literally_ between a rock and a hard place, that all he could do was stand there and await his fate…

His mind still thought he could get away.

He was quickly corrected by a lot of pain. First from the initial impact. Then _again_ when he woke up.

“Easy, easy, easy…!”

He was lying on the ground. His chest burned and the air smelled of…what was that, ozone? Ozone and something deeply cold. His mouth tingled from the taste of his own blood. Arthur was crouched over him, one hand on Cooper’s chest. His eyes seemed even more blue than usual—in fact, _everything_ about him seemed suddenly, weirdly more vibrant.

Especially the blood on his face.

“Shit…Art…” Cooper tried to shit up. “ _Fuck_ …”

“Shh, no, don’t move so quickly…” It took barely any pressure from Arthur to slow Cooper as he struggled to sit up. “You’re not in great shape. He smacked you pretty good.”

Oh. Right. The creature.

Oh, _shit_ , the creature.

“Where…?” Cooper looked around. It took him a second to realize that one of the grey lumps was not, in fact, a rock, but the creature, lying motionless and dead. Its head was twisted at an unnatural angle and there was a truly disturbing amount of blood still oozing out from under its body. “Did you…?”

“You softened him up for me.” Arthur was smiling, but his eyes were terrified. He must’ve been _really_ freaked out if Cooper could see it—he missed subtle facial expressions like that on a _good_ day, forget when he was beat to hell. “I’m gonna help you up, okay? Move slowly…”

Getting up made his bones feel like they were on fire. The full weight of what had just happened only hit him then. _I should be dead_ , he thought numbly. _How the shit am I not dead?_

“Okay, if you can’t walk, I can carry you…” He said that as if he wasn’t the only thing Cooper upright already. Cooper had to lean on him to even try walking, and even then he only made it three steps before his knees gave out. “Okay, yeah, I’m gonna carry you.”

Cooper thought about protesting. But he still felt lightheaded and the pain was _really_ bad. He could handle being carried. He wasn’t _that_ proud.

Arthur picked him up as easily as if he were carrying a baby. Cooper couldn’t help making a face; he appreciated the help, he really did, but Arthur was _covered_ in blood, and now it was getting on Cooper, too. “How’d you kill him?” Cooper asked.

“Like I said, you softened him up for me.”

“His neck…”

“Hit a rock on the way down.”

That didn’t seem right. Cooper didn’t have it in him to argue, though. The pain was clouding his mind, making _thinking_ harder than it should’ve been. He focused on breathing instead, feeling his ribs ache with every breath.

“You’re gonna be okay, Jack,” Arthur said quietly. “Just stay with me.”

Cooper did, kind of. He didn’t say anything else, but he did manage to stay semi-conscious. His mind kept drifting as they walked, jumping from thought to thought.

Being impressed that Arthur could carry him so easily.

Wondering if this was, in fact, the most physical pain he’d ever been in, or if that time he’d been beat to shit by IMC goons was worse.

Wondering how Arthur had managed to beat that thing on his own. Even _if_ he argued that Cooper had “softened it up for him,” there was no way…

Was there?

As his eyes drifted half-shut, Cooper’s mind wandered back to the space between the two moments of pain—a time he wasn’t completely sure he could remember. It was completely possible that he’d been unconscious the whole time, only awoken by what he was _pretty_ sure was a med pack hit from Arthur, but if he reached, he remembered two things.

A scream of rage and, following it, the smell of a storm.


	2. Chapter 2

The air smelled of blood. Human, troll, a bit of mortal-deity-giant thrown into the mix. It was a smell Atreus was _way_ too familiar with, albeit not usually in that combination.

_How did a troll get here?_

He hadn’t seen one in years. _Centuries_. So long that the memory was hard to grasp, even for him.

_How did a **deer** get here?_

Seeing the creature had flooded him with memories—cold air, snow just starting to dust the ground, a careful hand positioning his elbow, another, much heavier hand hovering at his back. _Do not think of it as an animal. It is only…_

Cooper coughed weakly. Atreus adjusted his grip and walked faster.

He’d been different then. Younger, for sure, happier, eventually. The Fimbulwinter had been long and hard and he’d missed Mother with every second he was conscious, but even the threat of Ragnarok hanging over his head and the weight of loss on his shoulders hadn’t been enough to sour all of it. It could never take away Mimir’s stories, the chorus of Brok and Sindri’s tools (and Brok and Sindri’s bickering), the World Serpent gently winding his way through mountains, old libraries unearthed for the first time in centuries, squinting at the words they contained by candlelight until the book was gently removed from his hands and a rough voice told him he needed to rest…

Finally feeling close to Father.

All things he’d lost, though slowly, over a long period of time, one after another, until it was just him and a bow and the war that had been the last straw. And just when he was starting to get something resembling that happiness back, a stupid _troll_ had to go and _ruin it_ …

_He’s not dead yet. Keep walking_.

Mortals were so fragile. Atreus had almost forgotten, because he hadn’t been close to that many. Not in a long time. He hadn’t even meant to get close to anyone here, but...

Well, here he was.

Cooper mumbled something. It took Atreus a second to register what: _Didn’t even catch anything_. He was right. All this blood and they didn’t even have anything to show for it. (Unless the camp was willing to eat troll, and there was no way Atreus was going to actively recommend that. Once had been more than enough for him.) _I should’ve gone alone. I could’ve handled myself alone. This is my fault…_

“We there yet?” Cooper muttered.

Atreus scanned their surroundings, searching for landmarks. “Almost.”

“‘Kay.”

“You still with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” The healing stone would be enough to keep his body together until they got back to camp, and Atreus knew they would have the right equipment to fix the rest. It was just a matter of getting there so he _could_ be fixed. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Cooper’s face scrunched in confused pain; when he finally opened his eyes, it was easy to see what he was thinking. _What in the actual hell are you going on about?_ “You know that thing was there?” he asked.

“No, but…”

“Don’t say dumb shit, then. Damn.”

Atreus didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry at the rebuttal. It sounded like something Dad would say. “Fine, I rescind my apology.”

“Good.” Cooper’s eyes shut again. “Hey, I’ve got...letters in my bag if anything…”

Atreus’s chest felt tight. That was the last thing he wanted to think about, but… “Yeah, I’ll look for them.”

“Hmm. Thanks.”

Cooper was quiet again after. Atreus could feel him breathing, but that didn’t stop him from double-timing it as best he could without jarring his friend. He was sure he made quite a sight, running into camp while covered in blood, holding a battered Cooper, and screaming for a medic.

The questions started flying almost instantly. What happened, how bad is it, was it IMC? Atreus was able to answer the questions about Cooper’s condition easily, but as for the rest…

_How do I even begin to explain what happened?_

“Kokinos, _what happened?_ ”

Atreus stared their commander in the eye, his brain sluggishly trying to think of a convincing lie. “...troll,” was what came out of his mouth.

“What?”

“It was a troll.”

Then he started laughing.

He wasn’t sure why, but he couldn’t stop.

Fortunately, they took that as a sign that he might’ve had head trauma and not a sign that he might’ve actually snapped. He didn’t have head trauma, of course—even the bruising on his knuckles had healed during the walk to camp—but at some point the laughter turned into a rattling cough that he couldn’t quite shake.

_You lost control_.

Sometimes his internal monologue sounded like Dad.

It hurt.

“Doesn’t feel like anything’s broken…” The nurse gave his ribs another check. “You sure it’s…?”

“Allergies,” Atreus said hoarsely. It was his go-to explanation, because saying _Oh, I still suffer from negative side effects of not properly controlling my god-abilities because surprise, I’m the half-giant grandson of Zeus but I didn’t know that for a full decade_ was sure to get him put on psych watch. “Must’ve been something out there that triggered them. Is Cooper going to be okay?”

“I’ll have to check, but last I heard, they were optimistic about his prognosis. _Looks worse than it is_ kind of thing.”

Despite the ache in his chest, Atreus smiled. “Good.”

Any optimism he felt shriveled up and died by the time he was discharged, replaced by worry and blame. _This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just gone by myself, if I’d kept a better eye on him, if I’d just…_

What? Revealed himself _before_ Cooper was smacked unconscious by a troll? Atreus couldn’t do that. He liked Cooper, Cooper was his friend, but…

_But what?_

He shook his head and started for the showers.

He liked Cooper. Cooper was his friend. But he had no way of knowing how Cooper would react to the news that Atreus was a few thousand years old and had godlike powers. Even if Atreus explained that yeah, technically, all those pantheons were just weirdly powered and long-lived humans (and possibly aliens…Atreus still wasn’t clear on that bit, but he’d been bracing himself to find Alfheim ever since they’d arrived in the Frontier), that was going to change how Cooper looked at him.

_What would he think if he knew?_ Cooper seemed like a pretty understanding guy, but…

_Hey, buddy, just wanted to let you know, I’m literally **Loki** , you know, the Jotnar god with the massive smear campaign against him? My mother is Laufey the Just, also kind of a smear campaign against her, and my father is the Ghost of Sparta…okay, so, the stuff about him is true, but there’s some nuance people like to leave out…_

It was terrifying just _thinking_ it.

He ended up staying in the shower until the water ran cold—not that the water getting cold _took_ very long, and not that he noticed when it did. Cold didn’t really register to him anymore. The water had to shut off entirely to jar him from his thoughts.

_At least I got the blood off._

Even with nothing to keep him there, it was a struggle to get out. He didn’t want to face anyone else: not their commander (he’d probably want a full report), not the other soldiers (if they stared at him before, they’d definitely stare now), not Cooper (if he was awake, would he ask for Atreus? Probably…he worried too damn much, and there had been a _lot_ of blood). He just wanted to be _alone_.

_Just get it over with, Atreus. Sneak out after everyone’s gone asleep like a normal loner._

Fortunately, _giving a report_ meant _writing everything down_ , and he was left alone to do so. Atreus only gave the basic facts of the hunt, leaving out his speculation and pretending he’d never seen a deer before ( _hoofed animal with horns, species unknown_ felt so weird to write, though). The only clarifying point he gave was that he’d said “troll” because _it looked like a troll, far as I’m concerned._ It was good enough to fool them, and he didn’t feel bad about lying to these people.

Still felt kinda bad about lying to Cooper, though.

He spent the rest of that evening metaphorically beating off the guilt with a stick and waiting for most of the soldiers to turn in for the night. Once they had, leaving was easy. He’d gotten in and out of far more secure locations, and remaining unseen was one of his specialties.

_Thanks, Huldra Brothers._

Atreus carefully made his way back into the woods, keeping an eye out for more trolls as he tried to track down the deer again. The night air was cold, and even though they’d moved further inland, he could still smell the ocean, very faintly. At one point, Atreus stopped to take a slow, deep breath.

Closed his eyes and remembered happier times.

That moment of quiet contemplation cleared his mind, enough that he could feel the curious stare of something behind him. Atreus turned around slowly, catching sight of the glowing antlers among the trees.

_Does he know?_

Atreus didn’t think so; the deer not as something different or especially threatening, but with the wary curiosity of a creature who hadn’t seen many humans but had seen enough to know not to trust them fully. Atreus approached carefully. “ _You’re all right_ ,” he whispered. “ _You’re all right._ ”

He’d always been good with animals—the one trick of his heritage that had been allowed to flourish without making him sick. The deer let him approach, even sniffed his hand when he held it out. “ _Where did you come from_?” Atreus asked, carefully stroking his soft nose. “ _How long have you been here?_ ”

Deer, like a lot of animals, weren’t terribly complex. Still, he was able to answer the question well enough. He had always lived here, his mind said, as had his father, and his before him. The forest was a part of the family memory, stretching back further than any of them could recall. If there was a starting point, it was beyond them.

Could’ve been comparatively recent. Could’ve been ancient. Deers weren’t especially long-lived, but that was more due to predators than the actual speed at which age took them. This one seemed older than most, but that didn’t help. Atreus was jarred from his thoughts by the deer nibbling at his fingers. He bit back a smile. “ _I don’t have anything for you_ ,” he admitted, “ _but I’ll try to keep the humans off your scent.”_

The deer snorted, suddenly remembering exactly who he was talking to—or, at least, who he thought he was talking to—and backed off. Atreus watched the deer bound away, his heart aching.

When had a sight once so familiar to him become so miraculous?

He kept walking.

This time, he wasn’t sure what he was looking for—another troll, maybe, some sign of how an actual Midgardian _deer_ could’ve ended up on a planet countless light-years away. He was sure he’d know when he saw it, and he was right. The slight tingle in the back of his skull that meant _magic_ wasn’t something he was looking for, specifically, but he honed in on it once he did, following the sensation to its source. He almost walked right past it, because at a glance it _looked_ like just a pile of stone. But a second glance made him realize this was something he’d seen before. While what was left of the arrangement had either collapsed entirely or was highly unstable, there was enough of it left to form the bottom part of…

_A doorway_?

He knelt down and pressed a hand to one of the larger rocks. Yes, he had seen this before. It was the same kind of doorway they’d used to get to the realm between realms. For a second, Atreus’s mind raced with possibilities, but as he examined what was left of the structure, he knew it would be no use. He didn’t have the right travel stone, for one, and whatever energy was left in the doorway had been reduced to barely-smoldering embers. Not even enough energy for one trip.

Part of him wanted to cry.

The rest of him was just resigned to it.

That didn’t stop him from sitting in the doorway, legs crossed, hands clasped, eyes closed. As if the proximity could let him feel through space and time. As if it would help him find his way home again.

And, of course, when he opened his eyes, it was almost sunup.

Atreus cursed and took off running. He was able to shave off some time off the return journey with the old _turn into a hawk_ trick, fortunately without being spotted (if a _deer_ was enough to blow the minds of these Frontier babies, a hawk _definitely_ would attract attention). Even more fortunately, it seemed like no one had noticed his absence. There was no lecture about not wandering off at night; just the usual stares and whispers.

Well, not quite the usual. Apparently, word of his troll comment had gotten out, and now everyone was wondering exactly what level of crazy he was to think trolls were real.

_I hate it here_ , Atreus thought.

But he’d chosen this, and he knew it, so Atreus gritted his teeth and ate in his corner, as usual.

There was one piece of good news, and it came by way of the same nurse who’d checked his ribs the day before. “Private Cooper is awake,” she told Atreus. “He was asking about you, so I thought…”

“Yeah, I’ll see him. I don’t think they need me for anything.” And even if they did, they could shove it. Atreus had more important things to worry about right now.

He wasn’t sure what to expect from Cooper’s condition. The healing stones did their job well, but he _was_ a mortal, and he’d taken one hell of a beating. The lack of expectations made seeing his friend sitting upright and putting in earplugs a very pleasant, very welcome surprise. “Hey, buddy,” Atreus said.

Cooper looked his way and smiled weakly. He was making less eye contact than usual; he must not have been feeling well. “The light bulbs in here are a menace,” he said.

Ah, yeah, light bulbs. Atreus understood; he might not have been autistic like Cooper, but having finely honed, better than average senses and a bad case of hyper-vigilance made him aware of some truly annoying sounds. That was another thing he missed about his childhood; electronics and technology were arguably a net good for the human race, but they made the world so damned _noisy._ “Do you want me to turn the lights out?” Atreus asked.

“No, it’s fine.” Cooper adjusted the second earplug, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as it muffled the faint buzzing coming from overhead. “Be honest. How bad do I look?”

Atreus probably could’ve answered diplomatically, but Cooper had asked him to be honest. When he said something like that, he meant it. “You look terrible,” Atreus said, which was true; he still had a lot of bruising and looked worn-to-the-bone _exhausted_. “But also? Really good, considering what happened. So, I guess it’s relative.”

“I’ll take that. Are _you_ okay?”

“Yeah, I got lucky.” That wasn’t a _total_ lie; he _had_ gotten lucky, for sure. Even as a fully grown adult, taking on a troll and walking away without even a few bruises took a lot of strategy and a healthy dose of luck. “Something triggered my allergies, but that was the worst of it.” Atreus sat on the edge of Cooper’s bed. “I don’t think they believe me, but…full fairness to them, I _did_ say we ran into a troll…”

Cooper snorted. “I don’t know, that sounds pretty accurate. You _talked_ to it, right?”

Ah. Shit, right, he’d forgotten about that. “Yeah, I recognized what it said,” Atreus said. “It was speaking Icelandic, somehow. I’m fluent.”

“Oh. Right, of course you are.” The fact that Cooper swallowed the not-technically-a-lie so easily made Atreus’s stomach turn. “Icelandic? All the way out here?”

“Yeah, I don’t really have an explanation for that.” Still not technically a lie, as Atreus only had half an idea how a troll _and_ a deer got out into this part of the Frontier. “Not our problem, though, not unless there’s another one and they’re IMC-affiliated.”

“Ugh, that’d _suck_.” Cooper settled back against his pillows. “You sure you’re okay? You look kind of...paler than usual.”

_Nothing gets past you, huh?_ “I’m okay.” Atreus was trying to think of how best to further the lie when he heard a commotion outside. He frowned, turned to face the window, then froze. “Oh, boy.”

A friendly Titan was dragging something into the camp—specifically, the body of the troll he’d killed the day before. Cooper’s eyes widened at the sight. _Guess it’s different seeing one in full lighting and when you’re not panicking or semi-conscious._ “...guess they have to believe you now, huh?” he said finally.

“Yeah, guess so.”

Cooper insisted on seeing what was going on in person, leading Atreus to just carry him outside on his back—not too difficult when his friend was almost half a foot shorter and Atreus had literal god-tier strength. They had to push through a growing crowd to get close. “...how the _shit_ am I not dead?” Cooper said, quietly awed.

“Insane luck and someone looking out for you,” Atreus replied. He couldn’t help feeling a little sad, seeing the troll like that. He _had_ tried to kill them, sure, but it was a somber sight. A portion of his past, decaying under the sun of an unfamiliar planet. Atreus noted a few of the arrows sticking out of the creature were intact, and old habits kicked in. “Hey, grab those for me, would you?”

If the revelation that Atreus had not, in fact, been off his rocker when he said they’d fought a troll wasn’t enough to get people to stare, seeing him with Private Jack Cooper on his back trying to get arrows out of its corpse was doing it. Cooper seemed oblivious, as always; Atreus just ignored it, until one of their COs came out. “I was skeptical when I read your report, but…” He gave the body a quick kick. “There really is no other word for it, huh?”

“Not really, sir.” Atreus kept glancing at the creature’s face. He could tell its jaw was broken; at least that he’d be able to explain away with the _hit its head on the way down_ defense. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Keep it away from any of those bastards at ARES? God only knows what they’d try to do with something like this.”

Atreus hadn’t thought of that. The revelation spiraled into another, more personal one: what might ARES try to do with a guy like _him_ if they knew he existed? He’d always tried to keep his rage and anything too superhuman in check, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself, but if they found out…

_That was one of the reasons Dad didn’t want to be involved, wasn’t it?_ Atreus bit back a sigh at the thought of his father’s face, and that unspoken, stern _I told you so_ that only showed in his eyes when Atreus did something stupid. _Fine, **fine,** you were right, again, shut up…_

“...sure that Private Cooper should be out here?”

“I’m okay,” Cooper said quickly. “They said I’d be ready for light duty the day after next, sir. And Kokinos isn’t letting me walk.”

_Right. Like I’d **really** be able to stop you._ Well, theoretically he could, but barring any unfair use of his excessive strength, Cooper was too stubborn to be talked out of...a lot of things, really. “I’ve got him, sir, unless you want me to take him back…?” Atreus said hesitantly.

The CO waved them off. “It’s your ass if the medics get pissed. You didn't see any signs of more of those things?”

"No, sir." _Hell, I didn't even see signs of **this** one until it was too late._ He knew that trolls were usually pretty solitary, but since there was no good way to bring that up without prompting a _lot_ of awkward questions, he kept that detail to himself. "Want me to go out and look?"

"No, we're heading out again soon, anyways. Once we figure out what to do with this thing."

_Good luck with that._

Atreus brought Cooper back to the medical bay, carefully setting him down back into bed. "Have you always been this strong?" Cooper asked.

"It's the bow training. That and you weigh like, ten pounds."

"Thanks, I think."

“You’re welcome. You rest, okay? I’m gonna see if I can help with that troll.”

It was weird; he couldn’t recall a single time in his childhood when they really disposed of a troll personally. Father had always been content to let the wildlife handle it. The most they ever did was move them someplace away from the house or out of any paths. They didn’t have that luxury now. The CO was right; they couldn’t risk the IMC getting their hands on something like this.

It looked like a frost troll, which meant it would _probably_ burn well (not something he ever thought he’d be considering again, but his life had taken a weird turn lately). Fortunately, Atreus didn’t have to explain his logic, as burning it had been everyone else’s thought as well. _Prep the body, be ready to torch it right before we go. Don’t want the smoke attracting every enemy Titan in the area._

Atreus had to admit: he was a little disappointed the Ion pilot who suggested using lasers had been turned down. That could’ve been interesting to see.

They prepared the pyre. Atreus slipped in a few quiet prayers as he helped, more out of begrudging respect for his opponent than actual desire to see his soul off to Valhalla. He lingered as the body burned, sticking around with some of the others to make sure they didn't start a forest fire before they left. That somber feeling settled into his bones as he watched the body burn. He stewed in it the entire march to their next location. Not even the whispers that maybe, _finally_ , they would get extracted soon were enough to lift his spirits.

He wasn't sure he wanted to leave, but kept that to himself.

His sour mood must have been obvious and worrying, because the normally _minds-his-own-business_ Cooper asked him about it that night. "If I'm overstepping, just say so, but…" Cooper's hands knotted on his lap as he spoke. "...you seem kind of out of it, and...is this about me? Because I'm going to be okay."

Atreus shrugged. "Yeah, I know that."

"And it wasn't your fault. I'm pretty sure I'm alive because of you."

"I know that, too." Cooper wasn't wrong about that second part. The first part...the what-ifs of how Atreus could've handled that differently, taken the troll down faster, done _something_ , wormed their way back into his mind. I don't know, it's...you ever have one thing go wrong and then it just reminds you of everything else that's gone wrong in your life?"

Cooper grimaced. "Oh, yeah. Anything I can…?"

_Not unless you can time travel and force past me to say something to Dad's face before…_

Atreus rubbed his eyes. "No," he said. "But thanks. I just…"

_I miss my dad. I miss my mom. I miss being myself. I'm sick of Arthur Kokinos. I want…_

"...if I tell you something, do you _promise_ you'll keep it a secret?"

Cooper frowned. "Depends on the _something_ , but...most likely."

Fair enough. "It's, uhm…"

His hand clenched into a fist, the tattoos stretching with his muscles. He still remembered his mother explaining the significance to them, what he'd learned after her death that had helped him add on to them, to create the ones no one outside of his family had seen, carefully placed runes wishing him swift feet, endurance, the blessing of his ancestors…

_You're the last son of Jotenheim. Never forget that._

"Arthur Kokinos isn't my real name."

Admitting it felt like jumping off a cliff. The fact that Cooper looked more interested and confused than betrayed felt like sticking the landing.

"My dad and I…" He could've told the whole truth, but it didn't feel right. Wrong time, wrong place, too much information at once. So again he settled for another half-truth. "...we've had...problems with very powerful people, and I can't go by my real name. But…it’s Atreus. My father named me Atreus."

As for the rest—that his mother had named him Loki, that his people knew him by that name even before he was born, that he was the last of the giants and the ruin of Asgard (or that was what people said about him, anyway)—that could wait. Maybe one day, he'd be able to tell the whole story, but for now, just _Atreus_ felt like enough.

"Atreus," Cooper said quietly, as if testing the name. "That's not…?"

"Norse? No, it's Greek. That's where my dad's from. I was named after a friend of his, actually." Atreus of Sparta, Atreus of Good Spirits, Atreus the Smiling. Not the worst shoes to step into. "That's why…"

"The surname, I kinda wondered about that. _Atreus_ ," Cooper repeated again. "Yeah, you look more like an Atreus than an Arthur. Thank you."

"For what?"

"Telling me. And I definitely can keep that a secret."

"On your honor as a warrior?"

"On my…" Cooper laughed, then winced. " _Ah_ , shit, don't make me laugh, please. Yes, on my honor as a warrior, if you _really_ want to call me that."

"I do."

"Feels a bit much."

"You _did_ go toe to toe with a troll."

"And got my ass kicked."

"Well, you got your ass kicked while fighting, and went down with your weapon in your hands. That's Valhalla material, typically."

"No offense, but Valhalla kind of sounds like it sucks. I don't want eternal combat, I want a nap. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

Atreus shrugged. "No offense taken. That's fair." The conversation was so _normal_ it made his chest ache. Was this how Dad felt when Atreus hadn't flipped out on him for keeping the whole _god of war_ thing a secret? Relieved and confused all at once? "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's not that I don't trust you, it's just..."

"It's fine. I get it. Do you want me to call you Atreus, or…? I mean. Not around other people, obviously, I just didn’t know if it’d throw off your cover."

“It won’t. I’d…I’d like that, actually.”

It would be so good to hear his real name again.

“You’ll have to tell me one day what you guys did to piss off _powerful people_ ,” Cooper said.

_Oh, you know, just some light mass murder on his end of thing and…being born the wrong species for me._ “One day,” Atreus promised. “It’s just…kind of a long story? And I mean that, it’s a _really_ long story…”

Cooper patted his shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, no rush. But…was it the IMC?”

Atreus shook his head. “Nah, I wish.” At least pissing them off would probably be funny and less _thousands of years of life-or-death bullshit_. “Hey, uhm, thank you for…being so understanding. I know, it’s a lot to take in.”

“Nah, I mean. What are friends for, right?”

_We’ll see if you keep that energy when you learn everything_.

But that was a problem for future Atreus. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy reclaiming one part of his identity.

Even if it was only with one person.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of note: this chapter treats my fic [the proving grounds](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15690486/chapters/36459102) as canon and references events from it. TL;DR for anyone who doesn't want to read the whole thing: their encampment gets surprise-attacked, Lastimosa gets hurt, and Cooper is the guy who helps him out. This impresses Lastimosa and is the reason he starts training him in secret.

He couldn't keep much from Atreus.

Not because they were friends, though that was part of it. Cooper had never been good at lying, and he was even less good at it when it involved family and friends. But even more than that, Atreus (and he was still getting used to thinking of Arthur by that name) seemed to have an uncanny ability to hone in on when Cooper was trying to be sneaky about something. _Usually_ he minded his business, but…

Well, Cooper was being (badly) sneakier than usual. It'd be enough to make anyone curious.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone, right?"

"Huh?" Cooper scrambled to figure out where that comment might have come from. "I mean...I guess? What are you talking about?"

"All the extra workouts. You're in perfectly good shape and everyone knows you pull your weight."

Oh. The _extra workouts._ Right. "Yeah, I know, just...pushing myself a bit. No sense in staying stagnant." Atreus's face was, in that moment, deeply unreadable. It made Cooper nervous. "No one said anything to me, if that's what you're worried about."

"Good, because then I'd have to kill them." Cooper couldn't tell if Atreus was. He was _pretty sure_ , comments like that were _usually_ jokes, but Atreus was protective, and something about the way he said it told Cooper that there _were_ instances where he'd be fine with killing someone over a slight. "But seriously, don't overdo it. You're healed up, right?"

"Oh, yeah, that was nothing. Mild tissue damage." Maybe that's what that was. Their last big engagement had ended with the camp in tatters and the two of them separated. He knew Atreus felt bad about not being there to help, no matter how many times Cooper reminded him that a _Titan pilot_ had been there. Cooper couldn't deny that the extra help in that whole mess would've been nice, but he didn't blame Atreus for not being there or anything. "They cleared me ages ago."

“But are you _actually_ feeling better, or is this a ‘we cleared you because we need guys’ kind of deal?”

“I’m okay.” The wounds to the leg and shoulder still hurt a little, but only when he poked them. Obvious answer was not to poke them, but he couldn’t help it sometimes. It was like repeatedly looking into the fridge to see if the food fairy had brought anything, except he was repeatedly, pointlessly checking to see if it had healed fully. “How are _you_ holding up? And don’t give me that look. I know you hate long ship deployments.”

Atreus looked like he was considering arguing the point, but ultimately… “Yeah, okay, if I don’t get to see a plant soon, I might lose my mind a little,” he admitted. “When are we landing again?”

Before Cooper could respond, he heard a familiar voice down the hallway. It took every ounce of self-control to act like he didn’t immediately recognize the individual in question. That self-control was a lot harder when the figure walked by. “Cooper,” said Captain Lastimosa with a friendly but not _too_ familiar nod.

“Captain, sir,” Cooper said.

“Captain,” Atreus echoed. He sounded pretty neutral at first, but the _second_ Captain Lastimosa was out of earshot, he turned to face Cooper with an eager expression. “Was that him?”

“Who?”

“The _pilot_ , the guy you saved!”

"Okay, first of all? He did most of the heavy lifting…"

"Jack, he was in a wheelchair after that fight. You can't tell me he did most of the heavy lifting when you were the only one walking on your own when you got back."

" _He did most of the heavy lifting_ ," Cooper insisted, feeling his ears start to go red. Atreus held up both hands, backing off but definitely not buying it. "But yeah, that's him. Captain Tai Lastimosa. He's nice."

He was _really_ nice, actually, but saying that would mean going into _the thing Cooper was keeping secret,_ so he tried his best to keep his mouth shut beyond that.

"Seems that way. Hey, maybe since you saved his ass, he can get you into the SRS after all."

Cooper felt the blush spread down into his face. He just hoped he looked more embarrassed than alarmed. _How does he...no, he doesn't know, but he **does** know you got turned down from the program and it would make **sense** to ask Captain Lastimosa for a reference…_

"I don't know. Maybe." _Change the subject, quick._ "Why didn't _you_ ever apply? They'd probably take you. You're one of the best fighters I've met." He wasn't saying that for the sake of flattery. It was the truth. Atreus had good aim, definitely some combat training outside of the Militia, endurance, strength...he was basically the complete package, as far as physical traits. Personality-wise, he was a bit irreverent sometimes, but they could work with that.

Despite that, Atreus shook his head. "Absolutely not. Even if people didn't think I was weird, have you seen how small those cockpits are?" Atreus gestured to himself. "I haven't been small enough to fit comfortably in there since I was a teenager."

Good point. There _were_ taller pilots, but they were rare for that reason. Atreus had a good seven or eight inches on Cooper. It'd be a bit of a tight fit. "Fair point. I've gotta say, I can't really picture you ever being my height."

"Would you believe me if I said I was small for my age as a kid?"

"Yes, but only because that seems like a weird thing to lie about. Late bloomer?”

“Sick a lot. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve ended up taller if I hadn’t been. Both my parents are pretty tall. Giant, even.”

He said it like it was an inside joke. Cooper thought about asking, but since the chances of Atreus explaining a family-based inside joke were roughly 50/50 (and even the explanations he did get were short), he decided to mind his own business this time. Especially since reciprocal business-minding might be the only thing keeping Cooper’s secret.

The thought was still there, though. _Maybe I should tell him._ Atreus certainly wasn't the only person he'd thought about confessing to, but he _was_ the one Cooper saw the most frequently these days, which made the secret-keeping a lot harder. It wasn't like Atreus was going to rat him out or anything (he never would, definitely not), so _technically_ there was nothing to worry about.

But it felt _wrong_ expecting Atreus to keep a secret that big. And it didn't feel right to make that decision without consulting Captain Lastimosa (the guy who stood to lose a lot more if news of what he was doing reached the wrong ears). _And_ since Cooper couldn't think of a good way to say _hey, so, I don't know how much longer I'm going to be able to keep a secret from this One Particular Person, so is it okay if I tell him, I promise he's solid_ , he just...kept his mouth shut. Kept the secret.

Right up until the point when he couldn't anymore.

It was, in short, one of those days. The long ship deployment had been getting to Cooper, too, making him a bit overstimulated and scatterbrained. That meant he wasn't watching where he was going or who might see him. That meant when he was slipping away from another training session that left him feeling _more_ scatterbrained, his reaction to hearing someone approach was to freeze instead of even _trying_ to hide.

_Damn it. Damn it. No, no_. Everyone knew this was the part of the ship where the pilots hung out...a rifleman, much less a random class-three like him hanging around would just attract questions...what should he say? What should he _do?!_ What…

" _Psst!_ "

The sharp hiss caught his attention. Cooper turned around in time to see Atreus standing behind him, as if he'd just materialized out of the ether. Cooper didn't respond verbally, just stared, but fortunately Atreus seemed to pick up the plea for help. Atreus stepped forward quickly, gesturing for Cooper to follow. He was walking _towards_ the footsteps, but Cooper followed anyway because at least if there was two of them there was safety in numbers…

"Falið," Atreus breathed.

"What?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Atreus said, this time loud enough that Cooper could hear him without straining. That had _nothing_ to do with what he'd just said, not as far as Cooper could tell...then again, maybe he'd just been swearing. Cooper wasn't immune to the urge to swear in a non-English language. "This part of the ship's not haunted, is it?"

"No, just…" Cooper swallowed hard as he caught sight of the other guy walking down the hall. He was pretty sure his name was Anderson, but he hadn't really learned the faces of the other pilots yet. "...surprised to see you here."

"Regular firing range is full. I figured they wouldn't mind if they borrowed theirs." Atreus walked past Anderson without acknowledging him—and, to Cooper's shock, Anderson did the same. He wasn't even shocked that they'd walked right past a _major_ without any kind of respectful acknowledgment—the Militia wasn't so stuck up on rank that you had to constantly be saluting people. Regular-grade respect was fine. But not even a friendly _hello?_ A casual _Private, Major_ exchange? It was like Anderson hadn't seen them at all.

Not that Cooper was ungrateful, because _damn_ , bullet dodged. But it was _weird_ , weird in a way that made him wonder if he needed another coffee or a prolonged nap.

"...kind of mad that _they_ get the fun moving targets, but whatever. So, uh, any reason _you're_ back here?"

Cooper's entire face went red. "Uhm."

Atreus had a slightly gleeful look, the _cat that caught the mouse_ smile that said _maybe_ Cooper hadn't been as slick as he'd thought. "You don't have to say anything, just...confirm or deny, Lastimosa's been giving you a leg up?"

Damn it. He couldn't back out now. Omitting the truth was one kind of lying, but outright giving false information? Especially now? Not happening. So, Cooper nodded, despite the pang of terror that it gave him.

Atreus didn't look mad; in fact, he looked downright _gleeful._ " _I knew it…_ "

"You _can't_ tell anyone."

"I would _never._ And for what it's worth, I don't think anyone else has worked it out, or if they have, they don't care _._ I'm just exceptionally clever." He grinned at Cooper brightly. "Can I just say, I am _deeply_ proud? My best friend, getting secret special ops training..."

"It's not _that_ impressive."

"It is. Don't sell yourself short. Just promise you'll remember me when you're some kind of big hero."

_As if that would ever happen._ Even if he made SRS, Cooper wasn't sure he was hero material. "I don’t bail on friends,” Cooper said. “And besides, you’re one of the only people crazy enough to be friends with me.”

Atreus shook his head. “I wouldn’t say crazy. No one else knows what they’re missing.” He held out an arm questioningly, only turning the gesture into a one-armed hug when Cooper leaned into it. “You’re going to do great. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

It was good to hear. It really was.

Over time, Cooper came to realize that plenty of people knew about him and Lastimosa, but as long as he wasn’t actively disrupting anything, no one cared. It made things a little bit easier, and a little less stressful. He was still glad that Atreus was the first outsider to learn. It made things less strained between them—not that things _had_ been especially strained, but even a small amount of strain was enough to make him feel uneasy.

Having everything back to normal felt good.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyric description taken from "Achilles Come Down" by Gang of Youth. I'm on tumblr as screechthemighty, there's a lot of God of War in my queue and a lot of Apex Discourse on the brain, if that's your thing. Also, Animal Crossing sometimes. (Also, for the life of me, I cannot remember if I came up with the explanation for Cooper's tattoo BEFORE I read a fic where it was a star map, or if I absorbed that idea from the fic, and I also don't remember the fic writer, but...full disclosure that one may not be my idea.)


End file.
